breadth for the Fairy Queen's robe, and we breathed more freely. But a severe trial awaited Laura, too. "Night" was to appear in a black velvet robe, garnished with black lace and diamonds-lace and diamonds were already provided; both, it is needless to say, of the richest fabric and the purest water. A magnificent piece of velvet had been seen at Beck's a day or two earlier, and, with her usual decision, Laura had instantly ordered it home; but the order had most unaccountably been misunderstood; no velvet appeared, and to-day the mortifying intelligence arrived that some lady, on a shopping excursion from Baltimore, had carried off the entire piece. Conceive our just indignation if you can! That an order so positively given, an order of Miss Frippery, should thus be neglected, was past comprehension. In vain were all apologies and explanations -in vain were twenty pieces of very rich velvets, from the principal warehouses in town, unrolled and displayed; the beauty was not to be appeased. True to her noble feelings, she scorned even to touch, with her taper finger, any inferior fabric. The lost piece was generally admitted to have been unrivaled, a richer velvet had never yet crossed the ocean, and nothing, a shade less perfect, would Laura condescend to wear. It was impossible not to admire Laura as she stood in tragic dignity the centre of a sympathizing circle; her beautiful figure swelling with proud displeasure; her fine head turned in wrath towards the luckless apologizing clerk; her magnificent eyes flashing with indignation. Again the French lady came to our relief. Send to Paris, she proposed. Six weeks must still elapse before the fête of Madame In six weeks a velvet equally rich with that mademoiselle had lost might arrive in New York. True, the time was short; true, also, that velvets of that highly superior quality were extremely rare even in Paris; still she felt convinced that, within six weeks, a piece, equally faultless with that now enriching the wardrobe of the Baltimore dame, might even be manufactured, and reach Thirtieth street in time for the great occasion. This was tolerably satisfactory, though a certain degree of anxiety must still be felt. O, for the submarine telegraph! Why was it not in activity for this our great emergency! Some ad ditional annoyances were also experienced, on this occasion, with regard to a promised fan, surpassingly beautiful, intended to complete the costume of Nell Gwynn, represented by Helen, and a huge old-fashioned watch and pocketglass required to finish the dress of Olivia, who was to appear as Marguerite de Valois. If the choice of these last characters should surprise the readlet him not confess the sensation. Nonsense, Tom, we mean no harm. What are the characters to us? The dress, as you very well know, is all we care for, and we have set our hearts on these very costumes. You are altogether too prudish at the Stumpery," exclaimed Olivia, in reply to a very subdued and kind hint of mine on this point. er, 66 Hobbling into the boudoir the following morning, I found the young ladies engaged in a very animated discussion. Berthe," "bretelles," "bretelles," "berthe," were the words which greeted me, repeated over and over again, in the usual tones of the sisters, whichlet me whisper the fact in the reader's ear-were often rather shrillish. "A berthe en cœur, I assure you. Good-morning, Mr. Fairfax. Bretelles spring from a higher point, and droop lower. Clearly a berthe à façon," observed the fair Laura, as I took a seat near her. "A berthe à façon, trimmed with nœudlets-white satin nœudlets, with a pearl edge, a Tom Thumb tassel drooping from each, and just touching the row of Honiton inserting, within which ran a galon satiné, taste width!" Berthe, 'bretelles," Honiton," "Tom Thumb tassels," "noudlets," bretelles," "berthe,” “Maltese," was the rather confused chorus in which the other sisters joined. The last word caught Laura's attention. 66 66 66 66 "Maltese! My dear Olivia, the second row was Honiton!" 66 99 66 "Maltese," "Honiton," "Honiton," "second row," first row," " Maltese," "second row," "third row," "Maltese,' Maltese," uttered the chorus. "You are certainly mistaken, Laura -the second row was Maltese, and the third Honiton,"-repeated Olivia again, with some decision. "My dear Olivia! where were your eyes! The second row was Honiton, of a most delicate rose-bud pattern, the most perfect Honiton inserting I ever beheld." Like Greek tragedy, the conversations in the boudoir were often kept up chiefly between two interlocutors, generally Laura and Olivia, the attendant sisters forming the necessary chorus. "Please bear in mind that I danced in the same quadrille with Jane, and I could not keep my eyes off her berthe. It was the loveliest thing in the room!" "More lovely than the fair wearer ?” I ventured to inquire. Laura opened her beautiful eyes in unfeigned astonishment. "Jane Stevenson is not in the least pretty-in fact, very plain," she replied. "I have not the honor of her acquaintance." "She is Henry Stevenson's sistercousin of John Stevenson." Henry Stevenson was an excessively stupid and hideously ugly fellow, but a favorite partner of Carrie Frippery's. He was worth a million or two. John Stevenson, a clever young lawyer, was a hopeless admirer of Emma's. He was so poor he could scarcely pay his office-rent. "Jane is, perhaps, the plainest girl in town. But such taste! Such an exquisite dresser!" 99 66 "dresser," "Exquisite," delicious," " dresser," "dresses," "dressing," 'admirable," "perfect," faultless," "dresses," "dressing," "dress," "dress," "dress," exclaimed the chorus, with a full burst of generous enthusiasm. And she never wore anything more perfect in its way than that berthe à façon. So delicate, so fanciful, so distinguished. I have sometimes thought a few other girls dress as well as Jane Stevenson; but that berthe à façon has changed my opinion-so fresh, such an exquisite mélange!" "Such a mélange, however, would not have been thought in good taste last year," observed the languid Julia, with an air of deep reflection on her Grecian brow. 46 Very well! Once admit that, and the whole matter is settled. The first being Valenciennes, the second was Honiton, the third Maltese, in the natural order of things. The lightest above, the heaviest below. It is clear as day." "But," observed Olivia, who, sweet creature, had a blue vein of obstinacy in her disposition, "you know, Laura, that irregularity in trimming is allowable !" "Allowable, of course-the effect is often very good-irregularity is sometimes a proof of very high fashion. Lawson is often irregular." "Very well-perhaps it was so in this case." "If I had never seen this berthe à façon, I might, perhaps, suppose so, too. But you forget that I stood full five minutes near Jane; and five minutes are sufficient, I should hope, for a woman of sense to know something of a berthe immediately under her eye. Why, in fact, I have many a time read the whole dress of a lady near me, in half that time, from her braid to her shoe-strings." "You are certainly very quick in reading a dress, Laura; I admit the fact," was Olivia's cordial confession. "Nothing is more easy, I am sure, if a woman is blessed with eyes and some sense," was Laura's modest rejoinder. "But it is not every one that has your great facility in that way—” 66 Well, I do hope Jane will wear the berthe to-night, and then we can settle the question," said Carrie. "No probability of that. The berthe will never be seen again. Jane never wears a ball-dress more than twice." "That is true,” sighed Olivia, "with her allowance she can afford variety. She has five thousand a year for her dress, you know—" pains and trouble!" exclaimed Laure again. 66 'Of course not, I am sure I am often tired to death just choosing, and planning, and giving directions. But the Snippery girls do all the fitting and sewing besides-only think of it!" They have too much spirit to be unfashionable, that is all. If I were poor, I should do as they do. Kate Snippery says she had rather die at once than drop into a dowdy!" "Oh, a dowdy!-who would be a dowdy!" exclaimed the chorus. "Not Kate Snippery, that is certain; nor I either. I should feel miserable in a dress that was not perfectly in fashion." "Kate has often made herself ill by working over party-dresses," continued Olivia. "They make beautiful things!" observed Emma. Kate's last hat might 66 have passed for a Lawson." "They deserve great credit,, I am sure, for trying to make a respectable appearance," replied Laura, in a tone of high commendation. "To be sure they do. Why they give up their whole time to their dress! They work really hard," continued Olivia. "As if any one could dress really well without a very great deal of "So can I-and I-and I-" echoed several of the pretty group. "Their dresses always have a copied look," continued Laura. "You like first impressions, I see, Miss Laura-as we lovers of engravings say. The worn-out plate does not suit you," I observed. mantilla; and the latter, tenderly returning her friend's salute, fixed her hazel orbs on the trimming of the morningdress before her. Emma was gazing intently in the direction of Helen Snippery's face; but it was evidently not her friend's countenance, but the hat-border which was so attractive to the affectionate creature. Had we all been in the palace of truth that morning, the meeting of the lovely friends might probably have been recorded much as follows: 66 'Good morning, dear"-Hat strings too short. "Cold day-Yes!"-Nose very red. "Throat sore? very sorry!" -Collar too pointed. Poor Mr. Jones is dead!"-Prettyish buttons, those. "Children with scarlet fever, too!"Abominate green flowers. "Read Hiawatha ?"-How can Kate afford such lace! "Ball to-morrow" - Awkward gathers those. "Mamma pretty well, thank you"-Mean little bows! Three pretty, gaily-dressed, highlyflounced young ladies came gliding in, and were affectionately received by the double triplet of sisters. The honor of an introduction was accorded to me. After the conversation just recorded, I looked with some curiosity at these poverty-stricken devotees at the shrine of fashion. They certainly were not clad in sack-cloth. It is mortifying to confess such dullness; but, really, to my inexperienced eye, they were just as elegantly attired as the Misses Frippery. Instead of reading home-made in every fold, it struck me there was nothing in the least home-like about them. They looked as if got up expressly for public exhibition. And it was well, perhaps, that such was the case; for these visitors-like all others of the gentler sex admitted to the boudoir-were immediately subjected to a very close, though silent scrutiny, by their fair hostess es. I had frequently noticed the same proceeding before. Amid the easy chitchat of feminine greeting going on, there was an undercurrent of close observation flowing ceaselessly over each other's silks, and ribbons; "reading a dress," they called it, I think. Laura's beautiful dark eyes, as she affectionately embraced Kate Snippery, were already wandering over collar and Of course the fancy-ball and its costumes were discussed, with a dozen other parties, and their appropriate dresses. But I cannot attempt to follow the young ladies, as they even surpassed themselves, on that particular morning, in eloquence and vivacity, while discussing the usual subjects. To speak frankly, as day after day passed away, it began to strike me that we did not often discuss any other subjects with the same fullness of interest. Of course we indulged largely in gossip; but it was generally well sprinkled with millinery. With reading we did not meddle much; our devotion to literature showing itself chiefly in attending fashionable lectures; where, of course, the dressing was not thrown away upon us. We were a well conducted household, we went to church regularly every Sunday morning, and sometimes in the afternoon too, when there was no company; but, true to our Vocation, the hats, and collars, and sleeves, in the main aisle, were always carefully reviewed. I acquired a great deal of valuable information about loves of mantillas, or frights of hats, on Sundays. If an engagement was announced, anticipations regarding the style of dress and furniture were considered more than the happiness of the lovers. If a baby was born, its caps and cloaks were more affectionately handled than the infant itself. If a wedding took place, the laces, cachemires, or diamonds were, of course, the chief items of interest. And more than once, after a funeral, the style of the shroud and coffin ornaments afforded us ample material for boudoir talk. The physicians had enjoined a course of relaxation and amusement. At first these came very readily. To have all these girls talking nonsense about me from morning to night, was delightful: they diverted me extremely. It was all so new, so strange, so different from my previous bachelor habits. After a while, when the novelty had somewhat passed off, a feeling of wonder and admiration arose the unflagging devotion of these fair creatures to the great object, their unwearied perseverance in the good cause, were astonishing. Their zeal literally rose superior to all fatigue; no desire for change of object was ever expressed; not the least symptom of exhaustion could be discovered where the toilet was in question. Nay, even in the midst of the arduous duties of a winter campaign, the sweet creatures were already anticipating the seasonslonging for "spring openings:" looking eagerly forward to new summer wardrobes, to be displayed at New York or Saratoga. It may have been a consequence of debility, but I confess that, at times, I now found it difficult to keep up with this extreme devotion to one subject. The powers of concentration seemed relaxed -or, in other words. I was guilty of an occasional yawn. I should, at this period, have made my visits to the boudoir less frequent; but, to take you into my confidence, good reader, I had now an especial motive for being there as often as possible. One morning, when too unwell to leave my room, as I sat languidly looking through the open door, I saw an object which immediately quickened my pulse, and aroused all my attention. The door of the boudoir |